Tomorrow

The clouds are peachy

blossoms in an azure sky.

 

The lake is a gray screen

that captures the reflection of the lolling

 

behemoths between sandy ripples.

The air is colder on the banks –

 

windier, with a gritty, earthy taste.

I wrap my arm around the wooden bench

 

and dream of robin trills

as the sun creeps out of its slumber.

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